


Stake Your Claim

by wackyjacqs



Series: Bizarre Holidays [227]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s04e03 Upgrades, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 15:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21147656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackyjacqs/pseuds/wackyjacqs
Summary: Jack loves the Atanik armband, he really does. It enhances various attributes like his strength, speed and agility, not to mention his metabolism, and, he thinks to himself as he unwraps another candy bar, who doesn’t want super-human strength?





	Stake Your Claim

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ‘Filet Mignon Day’ (13 August). Missing scene for season 4 _Upgrades_. I think this is the first _Upgrades_ fic I’ve ever written.
> 
> Also, IIRC, the word “hustle” has a couple of different definitions. In this case, we’re going for the “obtain by illicit means” definition… ;)

Jack loves the Atanik armband, he really does. It enhances various attributes like his strength, speed and agility, not to mention his metabolism, and, he thinks to himself as he unwraps another candy bar, who doesn’t want super-human strength?

He’s been able to out-spar Teal’c; he’s been able to run faster and for miles longer than usual without the pain and protesting of his knees; he’s been able to eat whatever he wants and not have to worry about putting on the extra pounds. He is genuinely sorry about the incident with Siler but, in short, the armbands are great.

Until it isn’t and he realizes just how much it is enhancing his abilities. In particular, it’s his senses like touch and taste and smell that he notices are more… _responsive._

It’s already difficult to get used to – he swears he can smell the food in the mess from his office – but his sensory perception overall is far more intense whenever he’s near Carter.

He tries not to think about _why_ that is, instead trying to avoid her where at all possible throughout the course of their day stuck on base. Until the incident with Siler and now they’re quarantined here, in the VIP quarters, and it’s all becoming too much for him to deal with. He needs to get out of the room, or even just a distraction to take his mind off things, before he does something stupid. Like having a quick chat with Carter and suggesting they find out just how enhanced their stamina levels really are –

He shakes his head.

_Food._

He could go for some food. That would take his mind off his second-in-command. He nods to himself as if it’s enough to convince him it’s a good idea.

“Well, all I know is that I'm going to starve to death. I don't know about you guys, but I am having some serious protein cravings.”

Jack freezes at the sound of the major’s voice and how she seems to have read his mind – a quality he thinks could well be possible thanks to this new-found technology – but then he realizes how hungry he is and he’s unable to stop the suggestion that comes forth.

“Steak.”

“I could go for that,” Daniel chimes in.

“Big, red, juicy meat –”

“O'Malley's in town.”

He reckons they’ll be back before anyone knows they are gone, so he doesn’t need convincing. “Let's go.”

* * *

Moments later, he meets his teammates at the elevator and he can’t help but notice how Sam is dressed and the perfume she’s now wearing and the way her hair has fallen around her face. He’s on the verge of reaching out to tuck a strand behind her ear when he suddenly realizes that this idea is actually a very, _very_ bad idea and a feeling settles in his gut that tells him the night isn’t going to end well.

He has the feeling that he’s a dead man walking.

But he’s still hungry, so after a quick glance around to make sure they are alone, he shrugs and decides he can deal with the consequences later.

“Let’s eat.”

* * *

Escaping the confines of the mountain and venturing into the cool night is just what Jack needs. At least, that’s what he thought. He imagined the fresh air would sober him up and reduce the pull of the armbands and it might have worked – if only Sam hadn’t brushed up against him after they’d scaled the security fence outside the SGC.

So, as soon as they reach O’Malleys, he makes a beeline for the bar. He thinks alcohol might help the situation; it’d lessen his inhibitions and dull his senses, but when he downs two shots and still doesn’t feel a buzz he orders one more for luck before he chooses to stick to beer. As if the universe knows, he doesn’t have long to wait to see just how much of a bad idea drinking and going out for a meal is because when they’re shown to their table, Sam chooses the seat opposite him and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t keep his eyes off her so he tries to strike up a conversation as a distraction.

“How high do you think that fence was?”

“Twenty? Twenty-five feet?”

“I'd say more like thirty,” Sam offers, drawing his attention back to her.

Thankfully, though, he also notices the waitress approaching to take their order. “What can I get you?”

“Three of the biggest steaks you've got,” Jack jumps in. “With everything. Rare – and a baked potato.”

“You got it!”

She turns to walk away and Jack quickly calls her back. “Excuse me? That was for _me._”

“Yeah, I'm going to have three as well,” Daniel agrees.

“Four?”

“_Four!_ Four is good.”

“Me too,” Sam adds enthusiastically, “and French-fries with mine. _Oh!_ And a diet soda.”

Jack’s gaze snaps to hers at the request and she shrugs defensively. “I like the taste better.”

If only he wasn’t so mesmerized by the way she’s now staring at him, he would laugh, but her eyes are wide and bright blue and innocent; her lips are slightly parted, and she looks beautiful under the lighting of the bar. He swallows hard against the rush of emotion he suddenly feels and has to down his final shot. Offering up a silent prayer, he hopes this is the one that gives him the buzz he needs to forget about the buzz that Sam’s making float through his body.

“So, has it occurred to anyone that we're defying a direct order?”

He risks a glance at Sam when she breaks the silence that’s fallen.

“Well, it’s not like we haven't defied orders before.”

“Well, yeah, but that was to save Earth,” she argues.

“Earth, steaks, there's a difference?” Jack asks because, at this stage, he actually isn’t sure what the difference is if it means he can stop being so hungry.

“We'll be back before anyone knows we're gone,” Daniel placates and Jack takes a drink of his beer, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding that accompanies the archaeologist’s statement.

* * *

After devouring dinner, they decide to have a few games of pool before they head back to the base, but when Jack catches sight of Sam leaning over the table as she lines up a trick shot, he again decides it’s too much and announces that he’s going outside for some air.

He keeps walking until he reaches the rear of the parking lot and, seeing a truck parked, he makes it around to the passenger side. Here, he can hide within the shadows but he can still see his surroundings clearly, in part because of the lights situated around the restaurant and also because of the armband. He’s alone for a few minutes before the door to O’Malley’s swings open and the murmur of the evening crowd and background music filters out over the otherwise silent night air. Among the noise he spots Sam immediately. She’s hovering around the door but then she turns and looks right at him. He shouldn’t be surprised that she finds him so easily, he reminds himself. Her sensory perception is enhanced too. He watches and waits as she makes her way down the steps and across the lot before she stops a few feet away.

“Where’s Daniel?”

“I've left him playing pool.”

He quirks an eyebrow at the unexpected response and Sam flashes him a grin as she lifts the arm encased by her own band and subtly waves it around.

“Ah.”

_Daniel Jackson: Archaeologist. Intergalactic traveler. Hustler._

A low chuckle escapes him at the thought. “I’m surprised you managed to pull yourself away. I thought you'd have a tag-team going by now.”

“I’m thinking about it,” she grins.

“Well,” he says, leaning against the truck, “if you do, make sure you go double or nothing. As long as it’s someone else and not me having their ass handed to them for a change, you might as well make it memorable.”

It takes him a few seconds to realize what he’s just said when Sam’s amusement vanishes. He’s just about to apologize when Sam’s gaze locks onto his and she slowly takes a step closer. Jack feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and the buzz that he’s been feeling in his veins all day, intensifying with every hour that’s passed, suddenly kicks into overdrive. There’s an itch ever-present under his skin and it’s only something the woman standing before him can scratch.

“Carter?”

His voice is low, gravelly, and he’s pretty sure he’s thrown her a warning, but she either doesn’t hear it or specifically chooses to ignore it because she takes another step closer, and another, until she’s just inches away from him.

He swears the air around them crackles and even in the shadow of the vehicle they’re effectively hiding behind, he can see the flush on Sam’s face and the way her lips are slightly parted, her breath shallow.

“Carter,” he repeats gruffly, “I think it’s time we headed back to –”

“These armbands,” she murmurs, cutting off the rest of his sentence, “they – they’re making me feel… alive. _Reckless,_ even.”

_“Major –”_

“It’s almost as if I just need to get it out of my system,” she continues, her breath now mingling with his and he wonders when she managed to close the gap between them. He reaches up to put his hands on her shoulders and gently steer her back towards O’Malleys when he feels her fingers brush along the inside of his wrist. He freezes at the touch and glances down to see her touching the cuff of his jacket before they trail teasingly along the material of the arm and he’s no longer sure they’re just talking about the armbands.

_“Sam –”_

“No one would have to know,” she softly counters. “No one _would_ know.”

Jack stares at her, his eyes widening in surprise but she just looks back, her gaze clear and confident and he suddenly _gets_ it. These armbands... they could do anything and no-one would know. He could take her against this truck and no-one would be any the wiser. But _he_ would know, and _Sam_ would know, and he’s starting to realize that she’s far too important and worth a hell of a lot more to him than just a quick fuck against the side of some stranger’s vehicle in a darkened parking lot.

With more self-control than he knows he possesses, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers while his hands settle on her hips. He can feel her shaking under his touch; she’s full of the same energy – the same buzz – as him and it doesn’t really help their situation, but it also does at the same time, to know that it’s not just him who is struggling.

Instinct wins over though, and without a second thought he effortlessly turns them and pins Sam against the truck. _Hard._ And then he’s kissing her and slides a thigh in between her legs, increasing the pressure slightly as he deepens the kiss. A low moan escapes Sam as she sinks down into his touch, but it’s only when she arches her back, her body pressing up against him, that he remembers where they are. _Who_ they are.

_“Sam.”_

“Jack,” she whispers, her lips chasing his as he resists the urge to kiss her again.

He closes his eyes and sighs. “We can’t.”

The only response he receives is the sound of their breathing as they try hard to cling onto what little restraint they have left.

He tries to tell himself why this is bad, why he should really, _really_ let go of Carter’s hips when the doors of O’Malley’s suddenly swing open and the sound of people talking and laughing breaks the silence. He glances over to see the source of the interruption; they’re walking in the opposite direction but it’s another reminder of just where the two of them are and that there could be someone around who knows them and sees them in a compromising situation.

With a final frustrated sigh, he straightens and reaches for Sam’s hand, tugging her further towards the rear of the truck and out of the line of sight of the restaurant.

“One day, Carter,” he promises, "one day.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to ask him what he means, instead letting his hands cradle her chin as he leans in and kisses her. It’s gentle and slow and soft.

Sam whimpers against him and it takes everything he has to not go against everything he’s just talked himself out of doing.

When he pulls back, he lets go of her and gives them both space to try and regain their equilibrium. After a few minutes, he finally meets her eye.

“C’mon,” he murmurs, giving her hand a little tug. “You’ve got some locals to hustle over pool.”


End file.
